7 thoughts on “the silence”

We lived in London. Boys with English accents in the back seat. Oh G.. Don’t speak, don’t speak, don’t say a word. Nobody anywhere should have to feel this silence, except to remind others. Too many who never get to go to Gweedore.

A fascinating thing, Debra, was that it was never spoken of in my hearing. It was many years later that I discovered that everyone knew and my parents had been waiting for me to tell them about it. But because it wasn’t mentioned, I didn’t know it was ok to talk about it. The odd lessons we learn! My poor parents probably didn’t want to make a big deal of it or add to my concerns, but it became Unmentionable in my head…

I know that place, I remember times of silence and tummy knots in the early years of my marriage here in Northern Ireland. I was the STRANGER in a shop, a church or a district. My accent stood out and I was not welcome. I remember being in a shop, picking up the item I wanted, taking it to the counter and handing over the exact cash – anything to avoid the need to engage in Conversation. Nowadays I talk to everyone.